No, Don't
by rese
Summary: Jabba1’s challenge Teddy holds his tongue. jo,laurie
1. Chapter 1

**No, Don't**

By rese

Summary: (Jabba1's challenge) Teddy holds his tongue.

Disclaimer: Get away from me! I didn't bloody steal her stuff! L.M.A. owns Little Women and the characters involved.

A/N: Well this has been an industrious Monday! Yay for getting off school early.

Anyway, the challenge from Jabba1 (it was the first I got and quite frankly the easier sounding one i.e. one I could achieve at my poor writers block rate) is as follows:

_How things could have turned out, if Teddy never asked Jo to marry him when he did. What if he held off and thus he would of stuck around and ultimately would be there to help Jo deal with Beth's death._

I seriously can't see how this would not end up with them together. And then she whips out the angst and suspicious thoughts….

…

_Something in his resolute tone made Jo look up quickly, to find him looking down at her with an expression that assured her the dreaded moment had come and made her put out her hand with an imploring, –_

"_No, Teddy, - please don't!"_

(Louisa May Alcott's Little Women)

…

Laurie pushed away the bubble of excitement that had settled in his chest, clamping his mouth shut at Jo's exclamation. She wasn't ready, he realized and if he breathed a real word about any of the feelings she had obviously anticipated him to have, Jo would unlikely answer the way he hoped.

He cleared his throat, turning around to clear himself of the flushed frenzy he had worked himself into. "Oh, uh, don't what, Jo?"

She looked down for a moment, so very, very thankful that he had obviously dropped the silly notion she feared him to have. Swiftly she started to walk again, calling over her shoulder, "Don't go and have too long a holiday. We'd miss you dreadfully."

Jo was careful to use 'we' despite the rescue from his confession but Laurie had taken her real meaning to heart. Jo would go and say such things, leading him to think she did care and then turn on him, demanding only talk within the context of friendship.

"I know one person who won't miss me a smidgen."

A smile crept across Jo's face as she felt the shadow of unwanted emotion pass them by as they began to leave the grove. "I can honestly say I don't know a soul who would. But then you know so many more people than I and that confounded smile of yours has been known to turn many young hearts."

Laurie watched as she walked ahead on the thin path through the thickest part of the bush, wondering if she intentionally turned his own heart so. First she begged _him_ not to talk of love and it was all _she_ was saying! But Jo was pointing to her mouth, attempting to mimic the grin she secretly found captivating and he couldn't help smile back. She had him wrapped around that finger.

"Well, I don't know about that, but - watch it Jo!" Laurie moved quickly as Jo began to slip off the edge of the small rise. He caught her arm in a fierce grip and hauled her back up by his side, bending immediately when he saw the black, brown and red marks that produced an exclamation of pain from his friend.

"The one – ow, ow, - slight height on this blasted path and – ow! Just don't – ouch - touch it!" Jo swatted Laurie on the head, confused by his gentle hands and the throbbing pain in her legs. "I had to fall." She finished her sentence finally, looking away when Laurie caught the disappointment in her voice.

"I don't think you broke anything," he informed her as he stood, catching her irritated look.

"I'm standing, aren't I?"

Laurie smiled, that sounded more like her. "No need to be snappish, Miss! I was only trying to help." He put his hand on her shoulder and Jo shrugged it off, preparing to take an unaided step forward.

"Oh HE-avans!" Jo stopped herself from swearing, clutching at the arm Laurie provided. She looked down to see if her legs were still attached for it certainly didn't feel like it, but the great skirt of her dress covered them. It was then, when she realized Laurie must've held it up to inspect her injury that her face went as red as the scratches he'd seen. "I must've caught them on the roots."

"And stones!" he added; for trees certainly couldn't make the bruises she sported.

"Yes, and stones. Like that giant boulder that juts out so." Jo tightened her hand around his wrist, "I don't think I can walk." She looked slowly up into his patient face.

"I can carry you." She immediately dismissed the suggestion, even though she knew fully well it was the only way she'd be able to get back home. And from the feel of Laurie's shirt against her hand, she knew had to get there fast.

"I'm not a little girl Laurie."

"You also can't walk."

"I refuse to be carried!"

"Well I don't think you have much choice!"

The tranquility of the grove was well and broken by now with their raised voices and as the two gripped each other's arms fiercely, the boy considered giving into temptation and kissing her angry red lips, whilst the girl wondered if she were too heavy.

"Alright." Jo conceded and frowned as Laurie seemed to take his time pulling away, only to take a few steps, running his hand through his hair wildly, fighting for the control he'd displayed earlier.

He sighed heavily before returning to her side, bending slightly and lifting her. "I'm sorry Jo, but I'll try to make it worth your time."

"Whatever are you talking of?" she asked, red-faced with her arms about his neck.

"Well just think, you can ask me anything and there's no way I could run off."

"Oh. In that case, were you the one who stole Meg's lovely pie?"

"Or, I could just drop you."


	2. Chapter 2

Jo sat on the sofa bored out of her wits. The cat that sat as still as a statue in front of the fire had been steadfastly ignoring her attempt to goad it over for some fun and she'd filled all her paper up with half-finished sentences.

"Oh, why me!?" cried Jo to the ceiling.

"Well, you're clearly the only one around that's why."

Jo spun her head around to see her tall visitor smiling curiously at her, "Oh, bless you, Teddy!" and she held out her arms grasping the air like a toddler waiting to be picked up. "Such a sight you are!"

Laurie sauntered over to the crippled girl, pleased with her reaction to his presence, only stopping to peck her forehead. "Such a greeting you give!"

"It's the abandonment; I'm all alone and _dying_ from idleness." Jo quickly told her woes as he made himself comfortable on the same sofa, mindful of her injured legs. Beth was sleeping upstairs and Mr. and Mrs. March had gone house-calling to their poorer friends.

"Dying?"

"_Dying_." Jo smiled as he took her hands, his eyes checking her over from head to toe.

"Well, it's about time I played 'doctor'." Laurie made a face as though he was resigned to his fate and Jo laughed.

"Wouldn't you rather play 'friend'?" And if Jo had any bit of a flirt in her he would have winked back and made something more out of her request. As it was, he leaned away and made a show of acquiescing.

"Thank you, I would. Doctoring is so much work and you know your boy's all worn out from that study. Do you know, Jo, that some of the fellows have gone straight off to toil?"

She looked at him amusedly, "Is that such a shock?"

"Why yes! Heavens knows why you'd want to miss a few years fun for a head-start in the drudgery. I know I'm not, in fact I plan to make quite good use of my trip."

"Oh don't go off too soon, Teddy," said Jo who felt she would need her him by her side for much longer than appropriate for a neighbourly friend. If Jo had known his words alluded to more than his own fun, she might never have opened her mouth but Laurie was for once very lucky he felt, as the long fingers in his hand held tighter.

"Have no fear, Jo; I'm not going straight away." Careful not to let his dark gaze linger too long on that suspicious face he quickly added, "You've got to mend first so that you'll be able to call after me crying 'Don't go! Don't go! You've forgotten your handkerchief!" He produced one which made Jo laugh and hit him.

"Oh, you are wicked, but after all, you do have a horrible habit of leaving them about," and Jo pulled out two nicely ironed ones from her pocket that he'd given to her on separate occasions.

"Jo, you needent have cleaned them, I was only trying to help." That he had, for the first was when Jo had stepped into a dreadfully deep puddle of mud and the other when baby Daisy had sickened her collar.

"Fiddlesticks! You know very well I could hardly hand them back with that mess."

The two went silent and Jo felt very warm, having become acutely aware of Laurie's hand next to her wrapped leg in the lull of conversation.

"I see the cat will cry, at least." Laurie said, spotting the little beast staring intently at them both.

"Of course he will. He has _four_ good legs."

…

Jo leaned back, careful not to bump her friend on the head. Her sisters had helped her out into the garden, her legs not completely capable of supporting her tall friend even after a weekdays worth of healing. Jo's cooped up body demanded to feel the grass and Meg quickly complied to avoid a shouting match, making a condition that Laurie should have to watch her when the boy waltzed through the gate.

So when Jo complained of a stiff back, Laurie quickly offered to make them bookends, sitting back to back and she was able to lean back without a chair.

"Don't get too comfortable, Jo. I still have to go home for lunch."

She chuckled a little; sending little shudders up Laurie's back and not just because of her shaking shoulders against his. "Oh yes, Grandfather would have your head for helping your crippled neighbour have a break from that dreadful, stuffy droll house." Jo turned her head to look back at Orchard House. "Never have I felt so happy to be out of home. Excepting of course, clear winter days."

Laurie smiled at her words, nodding because he knew that Jo being Jo could never be caught up. And yet as he sat against the twenty-one year old he couldn't help entertain ideas of being a good enough reason to keep her indoors and to himself.

"I have to get away soon, Jo" Laurie began, his voice quieter than he intended.

"Yes, I know, silly."

"No, Jo." Laurie twisted a bit to look Jo in the eye. "I mean the holiday."

He watched her lower her gaze for a moment. "Oh, yes, of course you do."

There was a long pause where Laurie wished he could tell her he'd planned for her to go with him, but Jo was facing the other way and concentrating on one of the willows, squinting her eyes and pretending the sun too strong.

"I don't suppose you could put it off a little longer?"

Laurie's eyebrows lifted in surprise. He waited for her to look at him until he answered, "I'm sure I could try, Jo. But only since you asked." Then Laurie sighed heavily and put his arms behind his head as though he was reclining whilst leaning against her back. "After all, who wants a holiday when his girl would be desolate without him?"

He quickly hit the ground after that.


	3. Chapter 3

"You goose!" cried Meg, frightened for her life when Jo came blundering into the kitchen, Laurie not far behind trying to steal some cake. The cake was only saved by a quick catch from the antagonist himself who saw Jo's grip loosen with his sharp black eyes.

"Oh, cheer up Meg, Teddy's caught it and it still remains… mostly whole." Jo patted her older sister's shoulder."

"Oh, yes indeed." The anger in her voice was muffled by her attempting not to laugh as Laurie spun about dramatically to place the cake before Meg in a most ceremonious manner while Jo clapped.

She watched the pair latch onto each other and whirl out the door again, oblivious to anything but their own rapid conversing which Meg assumed contained a healthy amount of tease from the look on her old neighbour's face.

Dovecote was never peaceful when they came to visit and whilst Meg removed her hand from over her heart she supposed it was only a matter of time until one of the two broached the subject she knew Jo despised. Then there might never be peace with either answer.

…

"It's good to have you up and about, Jo, dear." Laurie said patting her arm in a proud manner.

It had been a good month since the spill and Laurie hadn't entertained ideas of leaving until Jo would bring it up in conversation. When he sat at home, replaying their talks in his head he assumed she was far more concerned about it than he, for he never really gave much thought to traveling alone.

If she would just let him have his say.

"Why thank you, it is good to be able to function alone again. If I'm ever disabled again it'll be too soon." They sat down on Meg's chairs, quite content to sit and talk while Mr. Brooke read his paper in the sunlit corner.

"None but the weather can trap you inside, Jo."

"No, I think not."

John Brooke looked up from his paper, watching his sister-in-law agree using the negative with his ex-student. They would talk softly for a minute or so and then swiftly switch to loud tones of teasing or laughter, sometimes anger. It was concerning and comforting at once for Mr. Brooke had become quite familiar with this scene over the past few years and if it were to change in any way other than how his wife hoped, he would be very sorry for it.

"Is he staring?"

"Why, I think he is! I say Brooke, what seems to be the trouble? Did we disturb you from your reading?"

Mr. Brooke blinked away his thoughts, smiling at his friends as they already rose, prepared to leave him in peace. "Oh, no it's fine; please don't leave on my account." But they smiled their goodbyes and entered the natural world in full style.

…

"I should cut Meg's grass for her."

"Yes you should. She never has time for anything now." Jo's voice seemed to hold some lamentation in it and Laurie quickly shuffled over to rub her back. He knew better than the others, that Jo had never really reconciled with her sister's new life and probably wouldn't until she tried it herself. Certainly she'd made friends with John, she loved him as well as any sister would a brother and she adored the twins but it still hurt to think that Meg was gone from the family.

"That just means there's more for us single people to do. Don't you like to keep busy Jo?"

She frowned at him, swatting away his comforting hand. "You know full well I do. I just - I miss my sisters, Laurie." Jo held her knees up to her chest, letting Laurie lay his hand back down on her shoulder. She really only had Beth left, but her sister seemed poorer of late and it worried her so much. Beth had hid it behind her gently smiles and quiet needlework but Jo would catch the looks she gave to the window, her needle and wool cast away in her lap and eyes too watery for Jo's liking.

As she sat there with Laurie amongst the tall grass, taking comfort from the friend she'd given so much to and who she feared would leave her too, Jo just wished things could go back.


	4. Chapter 4

Laurie threw his head back in frustration. She was the most stubborn woman he ever met! "Jo, just put it down!"

"No!" He could just imagine her sticking her tongue out at him if they were a few years younger.

"Please!"

Beth had her hands over her ears and she gave them a stern look, surprising Laurie who thought never to receive one from her. "Play nicely you two."

Jo dropped the book and moved over to her sister, "I'm sorry Beth. We shouldn't have yelled indoors."

Beth smiled patiently at Jo, stroking her sister's cheek, "I'm not the one who needs your apology, Jo." She looked over to the young man who stood pacing in the corner, trying to cool off his temper.

Jo made a face at Beth which told her she'd rather not before she forced herself up. Jo's circle of friends grew smaller each year as the ones that really counted, left on their own journeys, and so it was with that in mind that she decided to apologise when she would rather have held on to the argument.

"I'm sorry."

Laurie stopped his pacing and looked at the contrite young lady in front of him. She could make his blood boil in too many ways and while it was thrilling it was also disabling, for he understood how volatile they became when together and it might ruin any plans he'd made.

"It's alright, Jo." He held out a hand and they shook loosely as he rubbed his neck looking rather lost at what he should feel. "I shouldn't have raised my voice like that. But it is my book and I did ask for you not to read it aloud." It held words he didn't want anyone but Jo to know of.

She would normally have responded to his admonition as a further argument but Jo was determined to be good if not for herself, for Beth who discreetly watched them from the sofa.

"I'm sorry."

The pair looked away for a moment, feeling more than a little awkward before a quiet voice suggested they go solve their differences in a walk. Laurie smiled unknowingly the same as Jo at Beth, thanking her for the idea. Any time alone with Jo was only likely to strengthen what he hoped was something more than friendship.

"Don't get too lonely, dear!" Jo called over her coated shoulder as she closed the front door, taking Laurie's ready arm. If she had seen the sad face that watched them leave from the cold window Jo would have turned about and marched right back in without a second thought, but Laurie had pointed over to a tree where he swore he saw some forest creature the other day.

…

"I hate change!" Jo shouted angrily, her rage stopping only breaking into sobs when Laurie held his arms out for her.

Beth had fallen dreadfully ill again.

"Shh, Jo." He stroked the long hair that had loosened, "Beth did it before, and she can do it again. She'll pull through and you'll laugh to think you ever doubted." Laurie had grown in more ways than just height and Jo wasn't sure if she wanted the silent boy back or not. But he was right and it was encouraging.

"Do you promise?"

"That isn't fair." He stopped the soothing action yet Jo didn't regret her words. Laurie would never lie to her and if he promised then she'd have every hope.

"Do you promise?"

Laurie pulled away, running a hand through his dark hair. "I can't." He looked into Jo's wet eyes, knowing that she would have to be mad to believe him even if he said yes. She was desperate though and he was all she had outside of family and two or three friends.

"_Please_." Laurie was sure that not even _he_ was ever that persuasive.

He stepped back towards her and she joined him quickly for another fast embrace. "Only for you, Jo." And even as he spoke he knew he'd regret it. But Jo was calmer and she was in his arms and who was he to argue with what would please her?

…

"I'm afraid you're not going to like my news," Jo sighed heavily as she laid her bonnet on the side cabinet.

"Well I know I shan't with that face," Laurie flicked her chin before he bent to receive his greeting kiss. When they started the tradition, Laurie couldn't recall but it was the most pleasant sensation that he daren't question its existence.

"The cats got into the cream and now I can't make that horrid cake I had planned to all week." Jo fell in a heap on his sofa and he guessed that baking meant more to her than he'd previously thought. Laurie sat beside her, in a much more euphoric state – having still the effects of Jo's salutation on his cheek – before he thought to comfort his despondent friend.

"You know I'd offer you ours if we had any, but Jo, girl, it seems that breakfast just couldn't have been drier this morning. If I'd known I'd have saved it for sure."

"Then I guess it's a hopeless cause."

"As hopeless as your hat."

Laurie received a quick shove for the insult on the offending accessory and Jo sunk lower into the couch.

"Be nice, the bonnet's from Meg and the cake was going to be my thanks, but now…"

"Now, you'll have to expend some very sweet words in exchange."

"I suppose so."

"Cheer up, Jo. Meg's always loved your plays."

"A play?"

Jo had turned to face him in all her curiosity and Laurie felt his excitement bubble up. Today was going to be no dull day if he had any say.

"Naturally! You and I can perform it and Meg will get a real kick out of it for sure. All we need is your genius and my melodrama and she'll get the best thanks for her ugly gift."

Jo scowled but thought on the idea. It did seem just the thing and it certainly suited her strengths more than any other troublesome cake. "Alright, Teddy. But you'll read the lines I write you or it'll be a soliloquy and nothing more!"

Laurie quickly crossed his heart and picked up the parchment she'd need.

"Don't forget to include a love scene. You know _Meg_ likes those."

His ribs hurt for the rest of the day.

…

Beth was well enough to see the short production a week later and her eldest sister Meg laughed and clapped beside her in all the appropriate moments, except when she laughed as Laurie tried to kiss Jo who bent to pick up a lost sword only to bump his head on her flailing arm and have his toe trod on _quite accidentally_.

Beth clapped loudest and gave each performer more than worthy praise and kisses and found herself almost smothered by Jo's bear hugs and Laurie's arm shaking grasp.

"That was quite the story, sister," said Mr. Brooke from his tot-covered chair. He could certainly appreciate a ship story any day, but Jo's were always overly adventurous and gore filled.

"Well, you can thank your student for his 'valuable input'. Despite the fact that he broke two nibs when I only broke one."

"Ex-student."

"And I only broke the other one in sympathy, Jo!" Laurie defended himself as little Demi's fists clutched onto the frilly shirt he wore.

"Well, John and I think it was well done and I'm very grateful for all the effort." Meg rubbed her sister's shoulder proudly before rescuing Laurie from a potentially aggressive swing from her son.

"Congratulations, Jo" Beth said quietly again and Jo moved over to hug her tightly.

"I'm just glad you're well, dearest." Beth's smile broke a bit at her sister's words, but it went by unnoticed the same as her deeper hurt.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: I'm sorry to have to do this._

"Laurie, it's been two whole months."

The boy, or rather young man, looked up from the scatterings of paper before him to give a concerned glance to his dearest friend.

"Oh?" he asked, already knowing what she was talking of.

"Are you going to take your holiday?" And there it was; the direct question he had somehow avoided for eight weeks. Laurie turned his gaze to the window on his left for Jo was staring at him hard and he couldn't think quickly when those grey peepers looked at him so.

He had planned. He'd planned and planned for a whole year, above imaginings and daydreams and actually sorted when and where and how he should go about it. Telling Jo, asking Jo and then leaving with Jo. But it never happened because she had stopped him before he got too far, throwing all his plans onto the moist ground of the grove.

"Not at the moment." It was a serious reply to her weighted question and Jo didn't know whether to feel joyous or despaired.

"I see, Teddy," said Jo as she stood from her chair and quietly left the room. Laurie had to wonder if she really did because she had become sullen over the topic and would cast the most tragic looks his way that he didn't know whether to try again or put it up to problems with Beth.

"Poor Beth," he said quietly into the hand that propped up his chin as he watched the house next door through his window. Jo would never leave her sister in that state and he understood for Beth was as precious as all the March sisters save one. Always save one.

Laurie sighed heavily and begun to fold and tidy the notes about him. Brooding over Jo was never very productive and it was a tell tale sign that he needed to get out and find something distracting.

Maybe that something was entering the March's house this very moment having only just left his. Gosh, he was hopeless.

…

A week later he had finally put together all his affairs (the little that were) and convinced himself, after many hours of staring into the looking glass that all he had to do was march into the house next door and declare the feelings he was sure Jo knew he had, then whisk them both away to Europe so he could live his life in peaceful bliss.

It ached so much when he thought of her. As a youth in love, it was very much pure infatuation at first, but then she would make him cross or twist him into humiliation and he had learnt that you didn't have to love everything about a person. He cared and hopefully that would be all that mattered when he told her. _If_ he got to tell her.

Laurie looked at the hand he held up, wavering slightly, and ready to knock on the door. _Her_ door. Oh, what if she said no!? What if – Laurie stopped the usual flood of fear when he recalled the way she would smile when she saw him, the way she would lean in before she pushed him away when he held her. No, Jo would feel the same.

He opened the door and immediately noticed how stuffy the air was, wondering if anyone had bothered to open a window. He walked through the entry, stepping into the hall where he heard a sound which made his heart stop.

Crying.

Jo was crying.

He ran up the stairs and almost toppled onto the ground in front of the woman sitting at the landing. It was Beth, it had to be about Beth and that guess made his gut drop. Jo would only cry if it was Beth.

"Jo," he choked out, his throat quickly closing in his distress.

She looked up from her wet hands, eyes raw and face drastically pale. The open pain in her eyes made his throat close over entirely and he fell forward to hold her, squeezing hard when she clasped in return.

"B-" she began but the initial itself was too much and Laurie shut his eyes, feeling the fat, warm liquid drip from his own lids in time with the increasing dampness on his shoulder.

It wasn't fair. It was all so wrong and he wanted to bat the memory of young Amy's frightened words with his fists out of his head, for Jo was shuddering so hard she was almost heaving. It was so impossibly wrong.

"Why, God?" he asked desperately inside, beginning to rock with the girl in his arms, feeling himself stripped bare by the knowledge that He had taken Beth. That good, sweet, kind, gentle, dear Beth had gone ahead before any of them could march for her. That God had hurt when he wanted to love.

A loud sob reached his heart when Jo's lashes hit his neck and he buried a hand in her hair, kissing and soothing as quick as he could.

He'd promised and he couldn't make it go away.


	6. Chapter 6

He touched the black lace, letting it slip between his fingers and fall by her side where it was before. Laurie hated Jo in black. It was absolutely the worst colour.

"My daughter…" Mr. March managed to begin until the title stuck in his throat like toast. The small gathering felt their own constrict with emotion and Laurie moved his hand to Jo's lap, covering her hand with his larger, warmer one. He hadn't let her out of his sight since that dreadful morning and from the look of things, she didn't seem to want him gone either.

Laurie looked around at the family and few caring friends Beth had obtained in her twenty years. That dear, sweet girl… he shut his eyes against the painful pricking of water that built at the thought of the little angel that had graced his life. Couldn't she have stayed to meet more?

He covertly turned his gaze back to the woman beside him, noting the slight movement of her shoulders and clench of her jaw. He knew she hated to cry as much as he hated to see it but it killed him more to know that she would hold back at a time like this. 

It was all so cruelly unfair.

…

Jo felt the hand on her back and briefly wondered if it would become a permanent fixture since its recent frequent appearance. "It's alright, Laurie, I'm alright."

But her head was down and her eyes were still red above her grim expression. "Sorry." He lifted his hand and hid it under his arms, bracing himself against the familiar incarnation of Cold Jo.

She wanted to tell him it was alright, that she didn't mind but Jo could only shuffle her feet under the seat and turn away. She'd never felt so… defeated. She just couldn't make the effort, and Jo hoped he'd understand.

Laurie watched the hall clock, prepared to wince at each tick which seemed louder than ever in the silence. There wasn't anything he could say and it was frightening to be so uncomfortable beside the young woman who had begun to shut him out. He only wanted to hold her and take the pain away _together_.

He wished grieving wasn't going to break Jo, but he feared it would.

…

"Jo, I love you," he was ready to say it but there was no chance Jo was ready to hear it. So he kept pushing, watching her swing forward almost limply; the energy to sit up and actually look in the direction of the sun another thing she wasn't ready for.

"Jo, I… I want you to know that I'll – I'm here if you need me." He wished he hadn't stuttered but it didn't seem to make his meaning less potent for Jo looked over her shoulder and smiled at him.

It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

…

"Oh, you're terrible. But we put up with you anyway." She rubbed his arm roughly and it made him grin down at her

"What's this 'we' business? It's just you and me Jo." He noticed her immediate blush and quick removal of her hand. He caught it nonetheless and placed it on his chest, beneath his own. "Unless you've become royalty when I wasn't looking."

He deserved that thumping.

…

"Thank you," Jo seemed to say out of the blue. He rolled onto his belly and caught her shining eyes watching the sky and he gently touched the ends of her hair, failing to deny the urge to let his fingers caress the fabric below that stretched across her skin.

"Don't be silly, Jo."

…

Was she thinking about him? Did she look for him as he looked for her over the hedge? When could he say what he desperately wanted to say?

…

"I feel guilty."

"How come?" The touch was gentle and reassuring.

"To know such happiness in all this sadness around me, Teddy. Is it wrong?"

"Jo, -" there was a pause where she waited, wondering and wanting. "No, it's not. It never is; you just need it."

He could have told her that he loved her. He could have told her that he wanted to be that happiness. He could have told her that he was going to take away that sadness. But what he said was enough. And Jo's head was resting on his shoulder in a most satisfying way.

He was going to get his chance and as the days got brighter, and the sorrow more distant he knew it would be soon.

She didn't even object when he pecked the top of her head.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: it was 35 degrees today and I have a horrible, horrible cold. And now it's raining. Yet, I feel very loved, so thank you everyone who's reviewed and put their time into reading this. And all the waiting you lot have to do. Sorry._

…

Jo came out of the house and walked down the path to the front gate before she finally noticed the lanky form resting against the iron.

"Well, hullo there!"

Laurie jumped at the sound of her voice and scurried to his feet. Quickly he dusted himself off and pulled out a crumpled not from his vest pocket.

"You're out early –" Jo began before she was cut off when he raised a hand and cleared his throat, testing his voice.

"_Dear Jo, I have written down my excuse for being early, and my apology for disrupting your morning, for I am sure to forget what eloquent words I have scrambled together_," Laurie read from the note, pausing at every comma to look up at Jo's amused face. "_I arrived just after dawn at your doorstep, rather your gate step and have waited for you to come out and start the day for I am sure you've forgotten just what day it is,_" The young man looked up to see Jo puzzled and he mouthed an 'aha!' before continuing. "_I am sorry if my surprising presence startled you earlier and I apologise in advance for my following actions shall disrupt whatever plans you have made for the day._"

"So, Jo! Grab your hat and let's go!" He said, stuffing the note into his pocket again and looking at Jo expectantly.

She merely laughed and took his arm.

…

"Just what _is_ today?" Jo asked conversationally as they strolled up the lane to where she did not know.

"Well, if you don't know, I'm not going to tell you" said he, sticking his nose in the air. Jo sighed heavily in response and removed her arm from its proud position on his.

"I'm sorry to have to do this my boy, but" here Jo took a deep breath, "I refuse to take another step until you tell me."

Laurie smiled secretively and continued down the dirt road.

"I demand you tell me, Theodore Laurence!"

He didn't even slow down.

"Teddy, _please_!"

A very out-of-breath girl appeared by his side after he went past the bend and he smiled knowingly down at her, offering his arm again.

"Your curiosity will be your downfall, Jo March."

"Yes, and yours will be your teasing. So where are we going?" Jo asked after a short while which produced a hearty chuckle from her male companion and some fast boxing from his indignant friend for the rest of the journey.

…

The afternoon sun was warm on her face and had she not stayed in the shade of the willow that day she guessed it might've felt too warm. Laurie appeared on the edge of her vision and she watched him run over, panting with exertion.

"Well, I think that should do it," he said dropping to the blanket and dumping a particularly spectacular-looking bunch of flowers in Jo's lap. She smiled at him questioningly and he replied only with a "For you," before collapsing on his back, still breathing heavily.

Jo took a better look at the flowers, finding that with such a selection of colours Laurie must have run round half the gardens in the neighbourhood. Slowly she realised the violets were just like those they'd once given Meg, the daisies suspiciously similar to the bunch they'd gathered for Hannah last spring and the geraniums in the centre all too reminiscent of Amy's when she first visited…

"Heavens!" Jo cried, understanding finally dawning. "It's the first time we became properly acquainted, isn't it?" She turned to find the young man grinning at her on his back, his hand brushing her skirts.

"Thought you'd never guess." Laurie said quietly.

Jo quickly turned red and looked back at the blossoms in her lap. It was a very sentimental gift to be sure – the kind she usually despised – but he'd put so much thought into it, for _her_. Jo was touched if not a little put off by the sentimentality.

"Thank you, Teddy." Jo spoke into the flowers, avoiding the steady gaze she felt hotly on her back.

He tugged her braid and she moved to lie beside him, bringing the flowers to her chest as if she was dead. Laurie frowned at the symbolism and rolled onto his front so that he could see her eyes when he spoke. He could read Jo better than anyone and any doubts she'd have about what he'd say would be found there in those grey peepers he spent far too much time thinking of.

"Jo, there's something I need to say."

A light breeze had picked begun to weave through the golden grass about them and Jo felt the entire energy of the world change as Laurie spoke softly.

"For a long time, as long as I care to remember, I've felt… well, Jo, I love you." It wasn't as elegant as he'd planned but he'd said it and now she'd know for sure. Jo's eyes flittered everywhere but on his face and he hoped she'd say something soon, but it was better than the profuse amounts of denial and avoidance he'd prepared for.

Jo's mind was racing along with the painful beating in her heart. Laurie loved her. What was she to say to that? He'd been so good to her, with Beth - and such a saint devoting his time to being a constant companion and he'd done so much growing up… at length Jo looked into his black, serious eyes and knew that he wasn't a boy anymore and that his admittance wasn't one of new passion, although that surely played a part in his feelings, but Laurie was earnest.

And it was at that moment when Jo realised that no other person would be there for her like he had, was and would. No other person would make her feel like she mattered more than she should. No other person would make her feel. No other person would love her like Laurie. And she could love no other person.

Jo pushed herself off the blanket so that they sat face to face. "I –" but she didn't get to finish for Laurie's lips were pressing against hers and she quickly lost all traces of thought. He knew without her having to say it and Jo smiled for it was only right.

They were right.

**End.**


End file.
